


Dyed Red

by felicitristesse



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2323214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felicitristesse/pseuds/felicitristesse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It may not be something that will be deemed acceptable by public, a relationship between a clumsy airhead with a suicidal cynic, especially when both are declared unstable mental wise. But who can say who's right for them except themselves?<br/>They need each other to dye their black heart, maybe not to pure white. At least red will do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little Lost Souls

Chapter 1: Little Lost Souls

The chilly wind tickles its fragile body, slipping under its coat, crawling on its skin, seeking for warmth that kills itself. The lost soul shifts to a more comfortable position, with unpleasant sound effects that is unnecessary to add to its darkened soul. Screams, shouts, cries, wails, hollers, all mingled just to create a new understanding; its parents are fighting again tonight.

Huffing and puffing, the lost soul hops down the window seat and totters to the door. A plate flies to the wall, crashing hard and shatters upon the impact. It is just a few meters apart from the place it stands, but there is no surprised shout or a cry. It just stands there, its lips parting, as if it wants to say something. Its dark eyes seem to flash rage, and the pair of eyes darkens upon the sight of gun, located so close to where it is standing. Laying there, the black metal glinting invitingly, encouraging the rage twisting its stomach. It feels sick, to the point that it almost feels like vomiting.

Screams of pain from the matured souls splits the air; inviting another soul to stand by the door with incredulous eyes. This pure soul, pure white like a baby just born, is sent to tremors, a drop or two of tears fall from the sinless eyes as blood splatters to the floor where it used to play with its family. Quietly, it sobs, especially when it sees a very familiar face, the face of someone it adores. Its big brother’s.

The pure shine darkens a little, bringing a dark blue hue to the soul’s color.

_How many tears have to be shed to dye those souls black?_

Even with the tears on the floor, no one notices the tiny soul. Not even the darkened soul with stained hands do. It’s too busy to sort out its own jumbled up feelings. The lost soul’s color is too dark already; dark red close to black. It is burnt with anger and cries for years it had hold back. And now it has released the anguish, only emptiness sweeps his dyed black heart.

 _Bam!_ The door is slammed closed upon the strong power of the darkened soul, leaving the wooden tag with his name ‘Hachimenroppi’ dangling in front of the door. Inside, the soul laments over the days that never seem to end; curses its gods in indignation for its fate. The tears that it desperately wants to let out never come; the emptiness it wants to wash away pools in its chest instead. Upon the unpleasant sound that continues to haunts its ears, it only curses over and over, bringing a darker, darker color to itself. The splatter of blood is not only locked in his sight, but also his hearing. The painful screams resound for quite a while inside its mind before it fades painfully slow to the night.

_With the enemies slayed,_

_Will happiness finally embrace this sad, sad house?_

_…No._

On the door a little, pure soul stands, clenching his fists around his clothes. Clothes that the corpses in front of his eyes bought for him with smiling faces, back when everything’s okay.

Its silent cry ignored, it continues to cry. Hoping that they will go back and wipes its tears, saying that everything will be okay.

It cries over everything, over the corpses, over its brother, over the throbbing pain on his temple, and the suffocating feeling pooling in his chest.

Little did it know, the feeling is not merely psychological.

***

“Stop.”

That one word immediately drowns all the voice, with only the sound of air conditioner audible to ears. Seconds pass, and the tense atmosphere goes even tenser, the gazes of Izaya and Shinra are glued to Roppi’s figure.

“Don’t ask any more,” Roppi pleads, or more like orders, because his tone is far from pleading. Shinra can only sigh, unable to reply, so he sends a sideways glance to Izaya, knowing that the informant is able to speak things out in the direst situations.

“He hasn’t asked you anything, Roppi.” Izaya speaks up. “It is clear that you are still not over it. You are remembering your past just now, right?” 

The crimson eyed male stays quiet.

“I just want you to get over it so you can live properly instead having an isolated, antisocial life you have now, Roppi.”

“I am perfectly fine with it,” Roppi finally snaps. “I just don’t want to go to school because it is full of sick fuck.”

“You are sicker, Roppi, and you know that.”

“Says a sick fuck. You are probably even sicker than me, Izaya.”

“At least I don’t have to take antidepressants,” Izaya shrugs.“Now, Roppi, I am trying to be a good uncle here, can’t you just cooperate? I tolerate you for not calling me uncle, because that’d make me feel old anyways, but you really have to attend school and the therapy sessions. I even bother to move you all the way here to Japan so you won’t be reminded of your past, even though it doesn’t seem to work well, please appreciate my efforts.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to care. "

“Your behavior is very concerning, you know, so I just have to do it. You’re safe here. It’s not America.”

“I know,” Roppi replies with a sigh, “You don’t have to tell me that. But regardless, I am still not attending school, neither the therapy sessions. It just makes me feel worse. Just give me my antidepressants already, and this stupid conversation will be over in a second.”

“You can’t rely on antidepressants forever,” Shinra finally speaks up, “it will have a huge drawback if you are relying on it as the only way to keep your emotions in check.”

Roppi slams his hands on the table. “If you are not going to give me, fine, do whatever you want! Don’t blame me if I kill someone out there!” The raven stands up from the couch and walks to the door. “I am going back. Fuck you both, by the way.” Roppi exits the room and slams the door shut.

“… You really should get a professional therapist instead, Izaya.”

“He won’t dare to kill anyone out there. He’s done with killing.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Shinra inhales a long breath. “The burden he has to shoulder is not light at all. I am no certified therapist, so I am afraid I may be incapable to help him. Psychology is only my interest, but not my specialty.”

“Chill, Shinra,” Izaya throws his glance to the window, “I know he’s able to get over it himself. He will need a little time to do so, though.”

“It’s been three years since that happen, and you are still saying that? Don’t tell me you are using him as one of your little experiments, because I will seriously kill you.”

“Your little scalpel won’t beat my switch blade, Shinra, so put it down.”

“Tch,” Shinra puts away the scalpel he hides behind his back. “But do you really make him as an object of your experiment? I won’t want him to turn out like your twisted sisters.”

“Nope,” Izaya smirks. “Not object, at least.”

“Then subject of your experiment?”

“Yes.”

“That’s more or less the same,” Shinra sighs. “One mistake in handling him, and he’ll be too far gone, Izaya. You shouldn’t do that.”

“I believe that every human should be the one held responsible for their actions,” Izaya replies casually, “including the sin he committed in the past. He should be responsible in getting over it. I merely wait for him to do so. By making him the subject of my experiment I mean I just let him doing anything he pleases and just watch him.”

“I hope you are not planning anything sick,” Shinra replies, “though I doubt you don’t.”

“That’s cruel,” Izaya chuckles, “I can be nice sometimes.”

“You and the word nice shall never be in the same sentence.”

“Perhaps that is right, but this time, I am being nice. After all, if I don’t pick him up from America, he’ll be a corpse by now,” he chuckles. “And anyway, he’s already broken when he is delivered to me. He can’t get any more broken.”

“But he can,” Shinra says, “you just don’t care if he does.”

Izaya smirks.

***

“Fuck…” Roppi leans to the wall. His head is throbbing, his chest is hurting, and a sick, sick feeling pools in his stomach like a bunch of worms. He needs to release it… but his pills are all out...

He closes his eyes and inhales; a sharp pain attacks his ribs immediately. “…I have to do it…” He mutters, and takes a switch blade from his pocket that he always keeps for safety. He steals it from his dead father’s belongings, and he uses it while fighting for his life back in America. It always successfully recalls the memories from back then, the day when he murdered the entire family. Even though thinking about it hurts, but it feels nice in a way, the pain of recalling the memories. He likes it, likes the feeling of being punished by the burden of memories.

Without hesitation, he puts the blade parallel to his pale, scarred wrist. The wrist has scars scattered over the entire surface, tainting the white as snow skin with dark red lines. Holding back his breath,

He tears open the skin.

The sight of the blood makes the pain that he experiences before turns to a nice kind of pain. It's sort of pleasant because it is a pain that he inflicts himself, so he has utter control of it. Maybe it is his own of proving to himself that he now has control over what he do, because he fails to have that control over himself three years ago. But no one really knows, Roppi doesn't really care either. He just enjoys the pain, bathing in the blood, until the blood stops by itself. He is well aware of the risk, he might die of blood loss and blah blah. But if he were to die, he won't mind. He may sort of wants it even. He has been very regretful of his existence, he won't mind to just up and vanish. But again, his body is pretty persistent, so the effect is only drifting to sleep, blood loss assisting his sleep to be dreamless and peaceful.

Yes, only by this technique, a technique that most people object to, he is able to reach his peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi.  
> ...  
> This is awkward.  
> But yeah. Thanks for reading. The prologue is originally for a novel, but I just had to change the characters to TsukiRoppi because they lack the love they deserve. And I apologize for Tsuki's absence in this chapter, I want to dig deep to Roppi first, and they haven't even met. I mainly focus around Roppi's problems and Tsuki will assist Roppi with his cuteness and fluffiness, even though of course I will add a little something on Tsuki's part. I may not be updating it regularly due to the amount of schoolwork, but I will try my best for my beloved pairing.  
> Okay then...  
> Bye. *flees*


	2. Matured Lost Souls

Chapter 2: The Beginning  
“C’mon, Roppi, you have to go out and socialize! Can’t you see how interesting they are? You are completely missing out if you don’t attend high school. And didn’t you like school back in America too? The school is nice, I can guarantee, I’ve attended that school so I am sure that you’d like it there. The teachers are nice, they have no problem if you play pranks on them, you can skip as long as you fill the absence and get good scores during tests. I am sure that you will get good scores without even having to study, so it’ll be a piece of cake for you. It’s not so bad, Roppi.”

Roppi rolls his eyes. “Izaya, shut up. And my answer is no,” he answers curtly and averts his eyes back to a book, one of Izaya’s thick books that contained a lot of information from overseas. Roppi’s crimson eyes scan through pages in incredible speed, memorizing everything inside without even trying. But again, every now and then Roppi will still be distracted by Izaya’s chatty mouth, especially when the man does not give up that easily in trying to kick him to school. He thought that if he answers, the man will give up and just go away, but he is wrong. No one can make Orihara Izaya give up.

“What a sharp and straightforward answer, characteristic but hurts! C’mon, I’ve paid the fee already, so please don’t waste my money. At least get a certificate! It’d be hard for you to live here without one, you know,” Izaya continues and Roppi can’t help but to sigh. He is so annoyed that he’s tempted to push the informant off this apartment building so he can shut up. He can barely concentrate on the book this way, especially because Izaya tries different method this time. He pokes Roppi repeatedly, calling his name with disgustingly exaggerated manner and incessant whining that sounds anything but nice.

“….You won’t take a no from me, don’t you?”

“Of course! I’ve paid, after all. Does that mean yes?”

“No.”

“I don’t accept it as an answer~”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll take it as a yes, then!” Izaya claps. “Good grief, I think I’ve exhausted a day worth of talking! And I am not even paid!”

“If you can shut up for the rest of your life that’d be nice.”

“Ahh, you are so cruel towards me, even though I’ve provided you with everything! If only you don’t look like me, I will assume that you are not my relative, as you share no similarities with me,” Izaya fakes a pout. “Isn’t it tiring, being grumpy all the time? You’ll get old faster, and then you’ll be as temperamental as Shizu-chan. Ah, I wonder if you will evolve to be a protozoan like him. Or more like, devolve, because being a protozoan is certainly not a good thing. Maybe you have insane strength, but if you don’t know how to use it, it’ll go to waste anyway. But I don’t think you will, because your IQ from the first place is high. Shizu-chan is just stupid from the very beginning, that’s why he is such a protozoan.”

“Shut up! You are talking about him all the time, you may as well go and fuck that man so you can leave me alone,” Roppi grumbles, just flipping through the pages of the book. Now he has completely lost interest in it, even though he still hold on to the book. At least he has a reason to ignore Izaya. “And what the heck is with the ‘Shizu-chan’ thing anyway? Is that a pet name? Lame. Can’t you come up with something more creative?”

“The name ‘Shizu-chan’ is not invented by me! I just like using it to piss him off. I’ve invented many more for him though. Protozoan, brute, stupid monster, aren’t they nice nicknames that fit him perfectly? And no, I won’t want to fuck him, because my body will break due to his brutal strength. And he is just hateable, not fuckable. Not likable as well. He is just a brainless brute.”

“Do I look like I care?” Roppi throws the book to Izaya’s face, though of course the latter evades it easily. “Your incessant whining is just irritating! Don’t you have work?”

“Oh, I dumped all the work to Namie,” Izaya says lightly with a smile. “If I do all my work, she won’t have any work which means no pay for her. I am just being kind.”

“Being kind my ass,” Roppi rolls his eyes and walks to his room. “Shut up. I want to sleep.”

“Don’t forget to treat your wound properly, Roppi-chan!”

“Tsk,” Roppi clicks on his tongue. How the heck does the informant know that he has been cutting himself? Even though he’s an information broker, it’s still a breach of privacy. But well, perhaps there is no ‘privacy’ in the vocabulary of information brokers. Or just Izaya’s, because he’s a rude bastard that will peek into your life without hesitation and without permission, then making you his toy if he deems you interesting. Isn’t he a perfect caretaker for an equally sick Roppi?

Roppi jumps to bed and buries his head to the pillow right after he enters his room. His room is dominated by gray; it looks overly formal. Most probably because it’s a guest room. It has never been occupied by anyone though, because Izaya never had his guests sleep over. Inside there is an empty bookshelf reserved for Roppi. Izaya says that Roppi is free to fill the bookshelf with any book he likes, but he still has no time to buy books. He is also reluctant to go out and buy the books, as he prefers online shopping. But he has no credit card and Izaya doesn’t want to lend it to him so it seems that the bookshelf will be empty for quite a long time until he’s in the mood to go out.

There is also a new wardrobe and a new study desk for him, both made from wood. There is also a built in bathroom so he doesn’t have to share a bathroom with Izaya. It is a very luxurious room, but regardless, Roppi feels empty. None of these luxuries is what he needs. He needs… something else. Peace and punishment. So he can be purged of all his sins, including the slaughter… of his own family.

He closes his eyes.

Too empty.

“…Save me…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, no Tsuki yet. I apologize.  
> Since well, to meet Tsuki, Roppi has to go to school first. He's still adjusting to Japan, so it must take some time for Roppi to dare to go out in the open. Izaya has to convince him real good to make him go out and go to school. So... yes, most probably Tsuki will be featured in the next chapter.  
> At least I update fast... (And I sacrificed my time for working on a shitload of school stuff. It's just me being lazy though)  
> See ya! Thanks for reading by the way!


	3. Lost Souls Meeting

“…Fuck Izaya and his persistency,” Roppi complains along the way, stepping to the direction of Raira Gakuen. He glares at everyone who meets his eye, making a large empty circle around him because not a single person dares to approach him. Sighing, he recalls the map of the city and walks to an alternative way which has less people. Roppi complains more about how those people who clearly stared at him with fear. About how impolite it is to just stare. It is rare of Roppi to mention something related to politeness, as he is nowhere close to polite, but Roppi doesn’t care at the slightest. His mood has been declining too harshly. Izaya even snatched his usual jacket away, saying that it stands out too much between the students. He brings another simple black jacket instead, but it still pisses Roppi off. Everything in this morning pisses Roppi off.

Behind Raira Gakuen is a tall wall, and Roppi plans to climb the wall so he can enter the school. Wait, why am I even planning to go to school in the first place? I can just skip and tell Izaya that I am at school. But I am sure that Izaya will know, as he is a fucking information broker, and he’ll fuss over it too much again and wrecks my brain with his incessant whines. Roppi sighs and readies himself to climb the wall through a tree that is rooted firmly next to it, but he hears foot-steps, clumsy ones he detects, which are approaching him slow but steady. He cancels his thought and think, as the foot-steps may be one of Izaya’s chess pieces that he orders to watch over him. It’s from behind the wall…?

A boy, approximately as old as Roppi, peeks from behind the wall. He looks very timid, though his bleached hair makes his impression sort of clash with his nerdy glasses. His white scarf also makes him look ridiculous. “Ah!” He exclaims. “U-um, sorry… c-can I…”

Roppi raises an eyebrow. Who is this guy? Can’t be Izaya’s subordinate, because Izaya must know that Roppi will see through that obvious act. “Who are you?” Roppi asks coldly, his blood red orbs staring right through the blonde’s.

“U-um?” Tsuki looks confused but answers anyway. “I-I am Heiwajima Tsukishima. I-I want to a-ask… for directions to Raira Gakuen.”

…

…

…

“Raira Gakuen is the wall you use to hide,” Roppi coldly replies, taking the act as a joke. It’s not even funny, Roppi thinks to himself. Even though the boy looks genuinely surprised, but Roppi still suspects the boy for acting it out. 

“W-where i-is the entrance?” Tsuki asks timidly.

“The wall is not that high. You can use one of the trees to jump in.”

“B-but w-won’t that be trespassing?”

“Who cares about trespassing?” Roppi scoffs. “And you are the student of this school, so it won't be called trespassing. You are going in anyway, how you go in does not matter at the slightest."

“But…”

“Well, if you have time to hesitate, I’ll jump in first,” Roppi climbs the tree swiftly.

“A-ah, black-jacket-san! I-it’s dangerous!” Tsuki panics. “A-and where is the entrance?”

Roppi rolls his eyes. “Look for it yourself. You just need to follow the wall,” he says before jumping in the school, leaving the blonde behind. He lands on the soil perfectly and looks around to find his destination.

Seems that this place is a storage room, Roppi thinks, He recalls the map of the school that Izaya gives him, and walks to the direction of his class. He has no intention of joining the orientation, in Roppi’s opinion it is a waste of time, hanging around with the stupid humans he despises. 

He does not intend to get along with those humans. After all, he hates socializing. And it’ll be pretty awkward since he is a year older than those people. He is unable to continue his education back in the States because of the death of his parents, so he only attends half a year of middle school. It’s already a miracle that he is able to enter high school directly, despite him lacking middle school certificate. Fortunately Raira Gakuen is an open-minded school that relies on tests, which Roppi scores perfectly, so there he goes as a freshman.

He opens the door to his empty homeroom, given that most of the students are in the hall to receive orientation right now. He picks the seat closest to the window and the teacher, and sits down. He puts the bag under the table and stretches himself forward. “School…” Roppi mutters, trying to recall the memories of being in school.

None he can recall.

He has forgotten what it means to be in school.

His subconscious has locked away the memories prior to that incident.

“…I hate it,” he decides for himself, as he buries his face to his arms. “I hate school, I hate life, I hate everyone, I hate Izaya for dragging me here, I hate my parents for messing my life up, I hate my brother for dying so easily, I hate my life for being so awful, I hate whoever created me for making me such a failure, I hate myself for being so weak…”

“B-black jacket-san?”

Roppi flinches at the sudden timid voice, which he feels familiar with somehow. Roppi averts his red orbs to the direction of the voice, and…

“….Wait, you?!” 

“…S-sorry, c-can you tell me which d-direction is the hall?”

“You…” Roppi grits his teeth. “You are Izaya’s subordinate, right?!”

“I-Izaya?” The blonde blinks in confusion, hiding behind his white, puffy scarf.

“Don’t act dumb, or giving me that stupid excuse. ‘Lost’ my ass, you can’t possibly happen to be lost twice and happen to see me twice and happen to ask me twice!”

“B-but… black-jacket-san…” Tsuki fiddles with his fingers, “y-you are… t-the one who told me… t-to follow the wall.”

“Huh?” Roppi recalls the map of the school, and slaps his own forehead for his stupidity. “I mean only until you find the entrance, you idiot!” 

Apparently Tsuki has followed the wall even inside the building. The raven’s class is right at the dead end, so it is kind of normal for Tsuki to check inside the class, but… “I can’t believe you are this stupid,” the raven shakes his head with a sigh.

“I-I am sorry…” the blonde seems to shrink out of guilt.

“Yes, be sorry of your stupidity. You are hopeless,” Roppi says sharply, so annoyed by the fact that this boy he just met being so weak and timid and pure and gullible. “You’ll easily get manipulated that way. Your large body won’t help at all. You will be exploited by those scums who called themselves the smartest of all living beings, when in fact they are lower than animals. You will be used and thrown to trash after you have served your purpose, whatever it might be. You are stupid, so stupid!”

“B-black jacket-san…”

“Hachimenroppi,” Roppi replies, forgetting the fact that usage of first name is not very common over here. Being too long in America has depleted his memories about Japanese norms, and he does not bother to learn because it’s not like he’s going to be polite and all with anyone. Tsuki does not suspect either, despite the name being rare name for surnames. It’s weird as a first name too, so Tsuki does not question any further.

“S-shall I call you Roppi-san then?”

“Don’t shorten my name,” Roppi scowls. “It is overly friendly.”

“B-but your name is l-long…”

“Do I look like I care?”

“B-but Roppi-san…”

Roppi sighs. This blonde is more persistent than he thinks. He is too tired from dealing with Izaya so he really does not want to argue more with this boy, so he just stays silent.

“D-do you h-hate humans that much?”

“Yes.” A curt and clear reply with no hesitation. “They are lowlifes that do not even deserve to live in this Earth.”

“D-do you h-hate me, then?”

Roppi rolls his eyes. “I hate everyone.” Red orbs meet red orbs. “You too, Tsukishima Heiwajima.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. Finally, those two meet. Even though of course, they won't get all chummy yet, after all Roppi *hates* everyone.  
> I wrote this in class, solely for my reviewer MirandaYocum! Thank you! I write this chapter right after you wrote me a comment. A comment is really valuable for me ^^  
> TsukixRoppi fanfiction is really rare indeed... even though they are so cute and adorable. *sobs* More love for Tsuki and Roppi pleeaaase! *^*


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